


Whatcha' Gonna Do

by ardentaislinn



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Getting Together, Multi, Undercover as a Couple, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon knew how they felt about each other (despite their inability to actually GET together), but he didn't know how they would feel about a third.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatcha' Gonna Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gdgdbaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdgdbaby/gifts).



Napoleon wasn’t blind; he could see clear as day the way Illya and Gaby looked at each other. 

The excuses to touch each other, the longing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking, the pouting when the other paid attention to someone else \- the signs were endless. He felt like he spent half his days rolling his eyes at the two of them as they failed _yet again_ to simply admit their feelings and go to bed together. 

Really, their unrelieved sexual tension was killing _him_ and he wasn’t even involved in their relationship. Yet. 

Napoleon knew how they felt about each other, and if he happened to want them both a little for himself...well, who could blame him? 

He was a bit surprised by his own feelings. Not about Gaby, of course. She was a beautiful woman, and his love of beautiful women was well known in most circles across the globe. 

The Russian, however, now that was something new. Not because he was a man, no. Napoleon had taken a number of men to bed over the years, for both business and pleasure. His preferences - or lack thereof - had actually been quite useful in the spy game. 

But Illya was something different to any of the other men he had been intimate with in the past. He was so... _uncouth._

Still, that little bit of rough around the edges was certainly part of the appeal. He was in direct contrast to Napoleon’s own carefully cultivated suaveness. And Gaby the bridge between the two of them; her own special blend of charm and toughness that seemed to Napoleon to be the best of both him and Illya. 

He knew how _they_ felt about each other. He just didn’t know how they’d feel about bringing in a third. Particularly because they hadn’t even sorted out their own nonsense yet. 

Napoleon was a patient man and able to keep control of his feelings, unlike Illya. Gaby, he was confident he could seduce. She was lonely due to Illya’s inability to get himself together and kiss the woman, and she was certainly the type that would consider kissing another man to make him jealous. Napoleon could certainly escalate things from there. 

But Illya was a traditional ‘man’s man’, and Russian at that. Could he be convinced that Napoleon could join in their little games of push and pull? Surely two men that risked their lives for each other, and might even die for the other if the circumstances were right, could be close in other ways, too? 

To Napoleon’s mind, it was certainly worth a try. He just had to pick his moment. 

\--- 

He began to put his plan - such as it was - into action not long later. 

“Target is on the move,” Illya’s disinterested voice interrupted Napoleon’s first sip of his latest martini. The other man was rather put out at being left outside the club as watchdog and back up while Napoleon and Gaby were inside, sipping their expensive drinks and flirting outrageously. All for the cover, of course. They were playing lovers, after all. 

“He has another man with him, but I cannot see his face. It is raining out here and he has an umbrella. They are going inside now.” 

Napoleon and Gaby shared an amused smile at the envy obvious in Illya’s tone. No doubt he was getting drenched in the rainstorm while Napoleon and Gaby enjoyed themselves inside. 

Though, the club was nothing to write home about. The pulsating red light gave the place a sleazy, unwholesome vibe that even Napoleon found a little much. 

Napoleon looked over at his companion, intending to ask how she was enjoying the even, when Gaby’s face changed, broadcasting fear to half the room. Napoleon shifted to block her view of the room and the room’s view of her, putting himself between her and whatever she had just seen. 

“What is it?” he asked with studied casualness, in case anyone overheard. 

“That man with Jones.” 

“What about him?” 

“He nearly caught Illya and I last week as we were escaping that facility.” 

“He’ll recognise you?” 

“Unless he is completely incompetent.” 

“Let’s assume he’s not, for safety’s sake.” 

Gaby tilted her head slightly, looking around his shoulder. “He’s coming this way,” she hissed. 

“Get out!” came Illya’s emphatic voice over their communication earpiece. 

“It’s no problem. All you have to do is kiss me,” he told Gaby calmly. His heart beat a little faster with the adrenaline from a mission and anticipation of what might come next. 

“What?!” Illya roared. They both ignored him. 

“How will that help?” Gaby asked, already leaning forward. 

“Just trust me,” Napoleon replied. 

“Alright.” And then her lips were on his. 

Illya’s impotent frustration was practically vibrating through the communications system. Napoleon smiled as he shifted, pressing Gaby against the wall and hiding her almost completely from view. 

He counted himself lucky that the venue they were staking out that evening was one where such behaviour was not only allowed, but encouraged. 

He deepened the kiss, using a little flair while the opportunity presented itself. Gaby moaned quite satisfactorily into his mouth. Then, to his surprise, her hands tightened in his hair and tilted his head a little forcefully to move it exactly where she wanted it. 

Napoleon decided he didn’t mind her taking the lead, dictating the kiss, and went along for the - extremely pleasurable - ride. Illya’s seething breaths across the comms was just the icing on the cake. 

“Is that not enough?” his voice growled. Napoleon continued the kiss just enough to bring the other man to breaking point, then reluctantly moved away. 

“Indeed.” He looked over his shoulder and noted that Jones and his man had disappeared, likely into the back room to do their business. “Now that we’ve established this is indeed the front for the organisation, we should leave it to the proper authorities to clean up. We can’t raid an entire building with the three of us, and the police will want to have a part anyway. We can follow the money back to the true power players now.” 

Illya just grunted. Gaby grinned, evidently pleased by the other man’s reaction. 

Step one of the plan was complete 

\--- 

Illya was silent all the way back to their hotel. So much so that Napoleon wondered if he’d finally pushed the other man too far. 

As soon as they walked into their shared suite for the evening, Illya made directly for his room. 

“I shall leave you two alone,” he muttered sullenly. 

“It was for a mission, Illya,” Napoleon said, deciding to get the conversation out in the open as soon as possible. 

The taller man stopped. “I am aware,” he grit out over his shoulder. 

“Just because you are afraid to kiss her does not mean I am.” 

At that, Illya spun around, eyes blazing. He took a few deep breaths, obviously trying not to lose control. “I. Am not. Afraid,” he said deliberately through gritted teeth. 

“Then why haven’t you kissed me?” Gaby asked after quick wink at Napoleon. She understood his game and was willing to play it. 

“Because I...It’s…” spluttered Illya. 

“I think, after that kiss this evening, I will take Gaby to bed tonight, if she is amenable. You are more than welcome to join, if you like.” 

“ _Join?!”_ he managed. 

“Quite.” 

“I liked kissing Napoleon,” Gaby told Illya. “But I would also like kissing you. So, why not both?” 

“And,” said Napoleon, deliberately stepping forward. “I liked kissing Gaby, but I would also enjoy kissing you.” 

He knew it was a risk, but a calculated one. Illya narrowed his eyes in response, assessing him. 

“You are interested in a woman, but you would share her?” This seemed like it was a completely foreign concept to Illya. 

“Only if it is with you. I wouldn’t consider it sharing, because we would all be equals together.” 

He hadn’t dismissed the idea out of hand, and Napoleon began to feel confident that he could eventually bring Illya around. Perhaps not tonight, but sometime in the future. 

“This is not a scenario I had considered.” 

Well, that was certainly an interesting way of phrasing it. Perhaps Illya had thought it must be an either/or scenario? 

They both turned to Gaby. “What do you think?” Napoleon asked her. 

“I think the three of us together make a fantastic team. I think we would be fantastic in other ways also.” 

“I agree,” he told them both. 

Illya looked between them, and Napoleon could see his mind ticking over, processing all this new information. 

“I need a drink,” the tall man eventually announced, immediately striding toward the sideboard where the whiskey was waiting. 

Napoleon grinned. His plan was nearly complete. 


End file.
